Tom and I (522 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 0.14 on 7 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Aristides Sweetmeat <adsweetmeat.at.gmail.com> (View user info) at 2005-08-04 18:34:39 EDT
I am one of those people you read about but never actually meet, the type to reject any and all forms of hair maintenance products. I'm quite convinced that hair spray and gel are singularly responsible for the downfall of hair follicles in the United States of America.
Consider the Indian. He knows not of frivolities such as the comb or running water through the follicles, yet he may grow a mullet down his back, even extending across the forearm and to the knuckles. In the extremely rare case of a bald Indian, one can easily achieve a combover merely by doing a few jumping jacks.
In an effort to maintain a full head of hair long after my enemies are rubbing suntan lotion on their lopsided phallic symbols, I long ago decided to forego any of the stuff. As a result, I often possess an unruly look, like a cage fighter after swallowing a laxative.
I figured this would keep the bitches off of me, but surprisingly, they cant get enough of it. Butter-hands Tina down at work is always reaching for my scalp. It takes a serious backhand to keep her off my strands. Once she managed to sink her digits into me and left an imprint of her hand that lasted for two weeks. Seriously, my head looked like one of those plaster sculptures your child palms at school, and in a desperate moment you're forced to use for masturbation only to find yourself disappointed that your boy's inadequate thumb size cost you a stain on the new carpet.
So at work today, I kept my distance from that sausage-faced whore. I was in the back storeroom, enjoying the puff of a cool menthol, when out she pops from her stretch pants, the overflow from her intestines infecting my carefully maintained coff. The disgust in my mind is secondary to the surprised reaction I give to the new situation.
It is raining snowflakes! But how can that be? She begins to twirl, as if she is Winona Ryder in the triumphant scene of Edward Scissorhands. As she catches one of the flakes on her tongue, my eyes gaze upward, and I realize the eye of the storm is the top of my cranium.
"What are you doing? Those are pieces of a scar on top of my head", I cry out in exasperation.
"Each piece of scab retains an individuality, a piece of itself that makes it uniquely beautiful. Think about where it came from. They all have a special story. Some injuries were caused by a cheap shot during a friendly sporting event, and others were caused by the unruly gravel of a back-alley blow job. We must learn to appreciate our differences. Please, tell me the story of your disfigurment."
Frankly, it was only dandruff, but I hated to disappoint her.
"Oh! Tom must have punched me a little bit too hard last night."
"You and Tom...are gay?"
"Yes."
User Reviews
Submitted by NotSteve (user info) at 2005-08-10 00:58:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
For the golf post. Yes it was that funny.
Submitted by Xcuses (user info) at 2005-08-05 00:09:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: -1
I got through about the first couple of paragraphs before I realized that this kinda sucked.
Then I stopped reading.
I really hope it didn't get better and I missed something special, but I'm sorta thinking I'm safe
Submitted by BuckeyesTHEGAME (user info) at 2005-08-04 21:27:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I don't like being fooled into thinking you're writing about me...
Submitted by Saxon (user info) at 2005-08-04 21:11:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: -1
I dont get it. Are you a ghey man with dirty, bug riddled hair?
Submitted by Jeanneee (user info) at 2005-08-04 19:10:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
This is really weird.
Submitted by doctorj24 (user info) at 2005-08-04 18:48:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: -1
Who the heck is Tom? Mehish story.
And she caught one with her tongue?? Gross.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2005-08-04 18:41:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
yellow blotter man, don't take the yellow blotter..